


Addicted

by possessedkitty



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Drug Addiction, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:09:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2302643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possessedkitty/pseuds/possessedkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>*Please note: Trigger warnings as follows: War, Violence, Drugs/Drug Addiction, and Self Abuse.*</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Please note: Trigger warnings as follows: War, Violence, Drugs/Drug Addiction, and Self Abuse.*

"I'm guessing you haven't a case today?" said John, dodging another one of Sherlock's paper wads to which he continues to throw towards the fire. 

"I am quite nearly inclined to light up today. I got a call of a client to arrive promptly at 8 in the morning. It is moments after 10 and still no sign. I haven't a case in over a week! A week, John! What is an intellect like myself to do with such time? My mind rebels as stagnation. I need work! I need puzzles, just something!" Sherlock rambled. John turned to glance at the kitchen as he took a seat in hair chair. 

"Well perhaps you could clean up the monstrosity that is our kitchen." said John. Sherlock scoffed at him. 

"Please. Simple cleaning is not a trick, my dear fellow, it does not require extensive thinking." 

"Alright then, try to get the shopping for once?" 

Again Sherlock let out a huff. "But it's your job to get the shopping. Mine is to solve crimes and cases! What am I to do to occupy my brain function if not with substance?" 

"I've told you about substance abuse. It's best you stay away from it. You're already a major dickhead without any amplifiers." John paused for a moment. "What about your brother? See if Mycroft has any work for you to do." 

"Just as tiresome. I'd rather not be in a one-up competition with him right now." said Sherlock. John was getting fed up at all the rejections of ideas. 

"Then go check the post! That should occupy you for a few minutes. It's always your mail anyhow... Don't know why I check it on the regular." 

Sherlock let out a very long sigh. "Very well then. I shall check the post!" Sherlock stated as he stood. John lifted his head in a slight jolt. 

"Really?" 

"Sure. you seem awfully troubled by it." Sherlock said as he walked down the stairs to the front door. He picked up the day's mail and upon returning to his seat he threw the obvious bills towards the fireplace. John sprung out of his seat. 

"Sherlock! You know you shouldn't avoid the bills! You're lucky those didn't make it into the fire." 

"You've got one." stated Sherlock grimly. 

"Got one what?" John said annoyed as he picked up the remaining bills and put them on the coffee table. 

"A letter. No forward address. A male's handwriting on the front and going by the style of ink I'd say expensive, really expensive. Someone of higher power, perhaps government but what would they be contacting you for? Suppose it could be milita-" John snatched the envelope that Sherlock was inspecting. 

"Do excuse me." John walked out of the room without bothering to hear a response. Sitting on his bed he examined the envelope. It was very neat and definitely formal. Hesitantly and carefully, he opened the letter. It read as follows: 

                          _Sir John Watson - Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers_  
      
                  It has come to the attention of the militant to inform you of current world matters. Soldiers are becoming increasingly injured and the military is in dire need of medical doctors to assist on board. You have been summoned to return to Afghanistan to aid directly on grounds in the medical tents. A taxicab will be awaiting you upon the ninth of August should you not respond an appeal of deny. Be prompt and ready for your departure, should you chose to accept. Salute.

 

John sat for a moment re-reading the leader a countless number of times. Since he had been laid off he never thought of being able to return to war. It had only been a few years and the Afghan war was still underway. He has had time to recover and his shoulder was not in as much pain anymore. John had given up his days as a first hand soldier but continued to do service in the medical field on his time away from aiding Sherlock. He had grown fond of Sherlock. So fond in fact, John quite fancies Sherlock and finds himself constantly gravitating towards him. He's certain it's become rather obvious to Sherlock, with his ways of recognizing one's emotions. Even so there's no way John could entirely confess himself to Sherlock. John decided to act upon his duty as a soldier and answer the letter with approval. He is unaware of what is to come of Sherlock at his leave because he relies on John to aid him throughout his cases and clients. They've grown to become close companions. Sherlock isn't like normal people, though. He doesn't feel like others do and even if he did, he doesn't openly express it. John wished not to have to leave the side of his trusted companion as he's really the only one he's got. John decided it was best to break the news to Sherlock right away. Upon returning to the living room, he saw Sherlock sitting in the same position as before although he was sifting through his many bills. He returned to his seat and pondered for a moment. 

"Whatever was in that letter has upset you. Care to confide, Watson?" Sherlock was now putting his full attention on his friend. John felt his cheeks warm. 

"Well... erm..." John mumbled. He couldn't find the words to tell him. 

"Alright, John. Even I can not deduce what is going in your silly mind or what it has to do with that letter." 

"As you were suspecting, the letter was from the military.." John said. Sherlock did not openly react. "I have... I've been requested to return to Afghanistan for medical assistance, if my health is up to par." 

Sherlock looked away from John and stared into the now dimming fireplace. "So deny the request." He said smoothly, as if he was stating the weather. 

"Well I can't necessarily just deny it. I am a soldier after all and must attend to my duties." 

"Tell them your health is not to par with war standards." 

"But it is. I've not had issues with my shoulder for some time now. I've recovered well from my initial injuries and where I can not attend front line war, I am more than capable of attending to wounded soldiers. It's what I'm doing already at Hospital." 

Sherlock let out a short breath. "So tell them otherwise. How are they to know the status of your health?"

"You want me to lie?!" John blurted out. He was becoming rather upset at Sherlock's opposition to returning to war. It's what John had come from, it's who he was. 

"John..." Sherlock stated sternly. "You have no outstanding reason to return to war. They can manage without you, there are plenty of other war doctors in Britain. You are of proper age to retire." 

"Not true! There aren't enough doctors that are trained for the military war style and I've plenty of life left in me. I am accepting this offer and returning to Afghanistan!" 

"Even if you do accept, what would become of our casework?" 

"Sherlock, you've worked on your own long before I cam along." 

"Yes but I work well with an assistant and those of Scotland Yard aren't too keen on working with me, you know that!" Sherlock had raised his voice, which rather surprised John. Sherlock was finally showing a bit of upset. There was a moment of pause and silence filled the room. Sherlock shifted his position to the edge of his chair and was facing John directly. John had done almost the same and was on the edge of his seat as well. They were rather close to one another and John's cheeks became even warmer. After a moment, John realized what Sherlock said. 

"You need me." He stated softly. Sherlock's expression changed to that of exposed and a bit confused. 

"What? What do you mean?" 

"You. Need. Me." John said forcefully. John was one of the few people of Sherlock's encounter that made any formative impact on him. They both knew it. 

"I don't  **need** you. I can function on my own but as I've stated before, I work best with someone else to question my methods and keep my mind at ease. You are the perfect suitor for for that position. That is all, John Watson." 

"Oh is it now?" John said with a smirk. John knew that Sherlock had feelings for him. He could sense it in the way Sherlock always asked for his opinion, even when it wasn't entirely needed. Sherlock often made sure John was alright, was he hungry or thirsty? Had he worked too much that day and needed a rest? Sherlock was always aware of John and his well being but he never outwardly said anything related to his emotions. John made a quick decision. 

"I shall make you a proposition of sorts..." John started. Sherlock's brows folded inward. 

"Go on..." 

"Tell me that you need me. In your words, from your mouth, and I shall reconsider the position at hand." John smiled briefly but soon frowned as Sherlock showed no outward emotion other than staring directly into John's eyes. After a moment, Sherlock stood and retreated to his room without another word. 


	2. Chapter 2

John, coincidentally, had an appointment with Mycroft today. He was to meet him at an off location promptly at noon and speak with him about something John was unaware of. While he was there, he thought to ask Mycroft advice about Sherlock. John dressed for the day and prepared for his departure. Before leaving he faced the hallway towards Sherlock's room and shouted out, "I'll be going out for a bit!" Sherlock, to no avail, did not respond. John left accordingly and retreated to the phone booth around the block from 221B to ensure Sherlock wasn't silently peering on him. A black window tinted car approached John and the door flung open on it's own. As John got in he paid no mind to the assistant that was next to him. His mind was too preoccupied about Sherlock. He was rather insulted that Sherlock would rather allow him to return to war than simply admit his feelings aloud.   
      Upon arriving at Mycroft's location, John was too lost in his own thoughts to really pay mind to the assistant or the place he was in. He was leaded into a door that led to an office to which Mycroft stood awaiting John's arrival. Mycroft gave John a soft smiles and invited him to sit in one of the overly expensive chairs in the small office. 

"How are you, John?" Mycroft asked kindly. 

"I'm sure you can figure it for yourself." John said rather bitterly. 

"I see Sherlock didn't take the news too well?" 

"What new- How did you know about that? - You know what, nevermind, you're Mycroft you know everything." 

Mycroft chuckled. "Presumably so. In any sort, how did Sherlock react to the letter?" 

"Honestly, do tell me how you know of that. It happened just this morning." 

"I was the one who sent them to request you back to war. Of course I know of it. I wished to test Sherlock once more with a simple antic." Mycroft stated. John huffed. 

"A simple antic? As returning to war? That's simple to you? You know there's blood and death out there, it's not just rainbows and butterflies." 

"Oh I am fully aware, Watson. You should know that your safety is insured during your stay in Afghanistan. There will be escorts and security to aid you on the battlefield. I am curious to know how Sherlock is doing to receiving the news that you are leaving. You have accepted it, yes?" 

"Yes. Although I gave Sherlock a simple proposition to which he seemingly refused to answer. I am hoping that he will give me a word before my departure." John mumbled. Mycroft looked rather confused. 

"A proposition? Do tell of it." 

"I simply told him to admit his feelings to me aloud, and I would reconsider accepting the request. He didn't say a word afterwards and shut himself away." 

"That is odd. I did wish to test Sherlock and see if he would oppose your leaving but I did not entirely foresee you setting forth this proposal. In any case, this will do just fine. Do keep me posted about his doings." 

"Aye. Will do, Mycroft. The term is short, only half and a year. Sherlock should be alright on his own, yes?" John asked while standing up. 

"We shall assume so. In any sort, good luck on your upcoming journeys, Soldier." Mycroft said with a smile. John nodded and turned to leave. "Oh and one more thing, John." He turned around to face Mycroft. 

"Don't die." 

John nodded and took his leave back to Baker Street. 

 

Upon returning he found Sherlock lounging on the long couch in the parlor. He was attending to a newspaper and didn't budge upon John's arrival. John sat on his seat adjacent to Sherlock on the couch. 

"Have a nice time with Mycroft?" Sherlock mumbled in his paper.

"I will never quite grasp the capabilities of you Holmes brothers." John stated. "What is it you're reading anyway? You don't read the paper." 

Sherlock flicked the newspaper and continued to 'read' without acknowledging John's question. After a short moment, John slammed his fist on the arm of the chair. 

"Oh come off it!!" He shouted. Sherlock jolted his attention from his newspaper to John. "You are stubborn, Sherlock. I've until the ninth of August to deny the request. That's four days. Four days! All you have to do is say it aloud and I shall stay." John was becoming increasingly upset. For the longest time Sherlock never admitted to his feelings and John understood that as it was just how he was. Lately, it's gotten worse due to John's overpowering feelings for his companion. Sherlock had a slight look of shock upon his face for a brief moment but smoothed out his features and returned to his newspaper. 

"We've been companions and flatmates for over 3 years now. I would assume that things left unsaid are rather obvious." Sherlock stated. John let out a long sigh. 

"Not to me." he mumbled. 

"Sorry, what?" 

"Not to me, Sherlock! The things so obvious to you are seldom obvious to me! Sometimes things need to be said out loud.. Sometimes there are things to me which are not so clear!" John shouted. "Sometimes... Sherlock... you just need to say it for the sake of saying it. To allow the words to linger in the air..." 

Sherlock was once again taken aback by John's outbursts. He had never seen John so openly emotional with him. He was rather speechless at this point. There was a long moment of silence until John rose from his seat. 

"Tell me, Sherlock... What do you see? Not observe but what do you see?" 

"I see... disappointment." 

"Presumably, what do you deduce from that?" 

"You're disappointed in me." Sherlock stated grimly and John simply nodded. 

"You are quite the genius, Sherlock." John said sardonically. He turned to retreat to his room but paused and took a quick step back to face Sherlock once more. "You may be a genius, but you are a complete idiot when it comes to such trivial things as feelings and emotions." With that, John turned and went to his room without looking back. He slammed his door with such force that it made Sherlock flinch ever so slightly at the sound. Sherlock sat for a moment thinking of everything John has said. Much like the many times he suppressed his feelings as a child, he did it again in this moment for he wished not to the pain that came along with disappointing John Watson. 

 


End file.
